The Selfish Heir: The Tale of Tom Riddle the Third
by Pier J.H. Legere
Summary: It is a fallacy- incidentally a very common one- to suppose that genetically inherited traits are by definition fixed and unmodifiable. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am not my father. I am not Voldemort. This is my story.
1. Prologue

It is a fallacy- incidentally a very common one- to suppose that genetically inherited traits are by definition fixed and unmodifiable. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am not my father. I am not Voldemort. This is my story.

I was born on October 31st, 1981. I do not know who my mother was. I barely know who my father was. All I know is that on the day I was born, Lord Voldemort disappeared from the face of the earth.

I was born in darkness. I'm not dramatically exaggerating the circumstances of my coming, my mother gave birth to me in a cell no larger than an average closet. Why was she in a cell you ask? I will tell you, but you won't like it.

It all started when the Dark Lord first heard of the prophecy. At the risk of possible demise, he immediately began preparation for the possible destruction of his mortal body. Somehow, he had found a way to expand his own life beyond his physical form. That is where I come in.

You see, Voldemort refused to admit it openly, but he knew that a stray spell could easily take him out. Entrusting the secret to a select few, he set upon… 'breeding' a new and perfect body to take as host. And for a few years, he collected witches of extraordinary power and began… experimenting with them. As stubborn as the Dark Lord was, he would not accept anything less than the best for himself, choosing to create children through magic. Imbuing the captured witches with dark and evil magic, dozens of failed children were made, and were rid of just as quickly.

It had to be _perfect_. The right height, the ideal build. It needed to be both charming yet terrifying. It needed to inspire devotion and hatred. He sought to be a god, and desired to look the part. At that point, his creation seemed more and more like it would be his eventual host, not simply a spare.

And then, he had a different objective in mind. Elimination of threats entirely. Still frustrated by the fruitless endeavors of creation, he sought to quickly take care of the potential threat so that he could focus only on the task at hand.

October 31st, 1981. I was born. Doctor Wulfer Frankinstane, a half-blood wizard who was kidnapped specifically for the purpose of this project, deemed me to be the perfect product. Finally, a form worthy of the Dark Lord himself! Immediately, he attempted contact with the Dark Lord. 3 Death Eaters were sent searching for him, while another 4 were left to guard the doctor and me.

The Dark Lord never came.

It's been a decade since that fateful night. My mother passed away, the strain from all the evil magic imbued in her was too much. I never got to know who she was, or even her name. But by the instruction of the Dark Lord, I was to be named Tom. Tom Riddle.

What will happen to me now? I have not the faintest idea. But this morning, I received an owl, carrying with it my acceptance letter for Hogwarts.

My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am not my father. I am not Voldemort. This is my story.

* * *

 **A/N: This is a project I've been working on for some time. (Approximately 1 hour.)**

 **I don't know why I abandoned Carpe Noctem, I'll get back to it when I can, if I can.**

 **Thank you for reading The Selfish Heir. I hope you enjoyed the prologue.**


	2. Chapter 1

You are probably curious about many things.

For instance, who did I live with for the past ten years?  
I was cared for by a lawyer named Nymar Black. With the money from a secret vault in Gringotts set up in one of the many aliases of my father, Nymar raised me with utmost devotion. As if I were the Dark Lord come again. Doctor Frankinstane often visited me as well, as he was the closest thing to a birth parent I had.

But enough of that.

After we received the letter of acceptance, a trip to Diagon Alley was quickly arranged.

With the list in hand, Nymar swiftly escorted me to purchase what I needed.

Everything was going well. Double escort in the form of Silent Men, the name I chose for my bodyguards to share. Nymar sent another one of the Silent Men, Scorpio, to Gringotts for quick extraction of extra funds. Meanwhile, I was busy being fitted for my Hogwarts robes and some formal wear for when I would need it.

Another student, one who appeared to be Muggle-born, came into the store. I nodded for Nymar to leave, as it was getting quite crowded with 3 fully-grown men standing guard and buying nothing.

I smiled at the boy. "Hello, there. First year at Hogwarts?"

He nodded vigorously. "Hi. I just found out I was a wizard like… yesterday. It's all so confusing…"

That was odd to hear. Normally, Muggleborns were informed of who they were at least a month before school started. Yet already, the date for the departure of the Hogwarts Express was a week away.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I snapped out of my thoughts and answered, "I'm Tom Riddle. Yours?"

"My name is Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

Shortly after the trip to Madam Malkins, we made a stop at the bookstore for both the schoolbooks and some other material that I was hoping to pick up. I kept quiet about my encounter with the Boy Who Lived, as I neither trusted Nymar nor wanted to judge the kid I barely knew. He seemed nice, not an ounce of what the ridiculous stories said could be seen in him. I liked that.

"Mummy, can we PLEASE stay for another 10 minutes?" a girl was pleading with her parents in front of Flourish and Blotts. Her bushy hair and… distinguishable front teeth made me think of a beaver for a strange moment.

I pardoned myself and slipped past them, once more motioning for my company to stay outside. I was going to have to blend in with the other students if I hoped to survive at Hogwarts. Not many students have professional bodyguards lurking in their shadow.

Quickly making my way to one of the tables with all the Hogwarts Schoolbook Sets, I picked up the set for First Years.

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

 _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

 _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble

It was all basic reading to be honest, though I'd only ever read _Fantastic Beasts_ , and that was because I was gifted the book by Frankinstane for my 9th birthday. Paying for the set of books, I put them in my charmed briefcase, another gift from Frankinstane, and proceeded to browse further.

I noticed the bushy-haired girl was also looking through the shelves. In her parents' hands was the aforementioned set, so I knew that she was a First Year like me. That meant more socializing.

"Hi there. That's quite a book you've got." I said. It was true, _The Multicore Theory_ by James Sulloiwn that she was skimming through was a very difficult book. It was on the Assigned Reading List for 6th years at Hogwarts, though not many students actually chose it for their projects. How did I know this? Life at New Riddle Manor was quite boring.

"Thanks. I just find it so fascinating how a wizard can potentially have several magical cores on which to draw power on, if they devote time to expanding their-"

"Let me stop you there. My name's Tom Riddle. May I ask yours?"

"Sure! I'm Hermione Granger. This year is my first year at Hogwarts, and I'm SO excited! I mean, it was quite a surprise to learn that I was a witch. Mummy and Daddy were ever so happy, especially when they learned that there was an entire school for people like us and-"

"That sounds wonderful. Does that mean that both your parents are Muggles?" I asked. At her blank expression, I continued, "Muggles are what wizard-folk coin the nonmagical people."

She gave a look of understanding. "Oh, yes. Professor McGonagall mentioned it. My parents are dentists. They take care of peoples teeth."

"Fascinating. Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Granger." I extended my hand, which Hermione's father took.

The Grangers were looking at the two students converse, with some level of happiness. What I didn't know was, Hermione was never the social sort, and her magical tendencies often made her the subject of unintentional bullying. Kids were never comfortable with the small 'miracles' that happened around her, coupled with her thirst for knowledge.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Tom." Mr. Granger said. "Please call me Richard."

"Thanks Richard." I replied. I then noticed that he had in his hands a rather plastic-coated looking book. "May I?" I pointed towards it.

"Sure.", he said, handing it to me.

I looked at the title, _The Selfish Heir_ by Tom Marvolo Riddle. Reading the name of the author, I momentarily froze. Coincidence or not, it was rather unnerving. Coupled with the fact that the Dark Lord despised Muggles, and would never publish a book with a muggle company, it was an understatement to say that I was unnerved. I then skimmed through the pages, only to find that it was just a fairy tale about some prince that overthrew his father. I then closed the book. I then looked back at the cover. Something was off. The name of the author had changed to Richard Dawson. I stared at the altered cover for several silent seconds before shakingly handing it back to Richard.

"This seems like an interesting book. Do you know anything about the author?" I asked him.

He frowned. "Hard to say, I haven't even read it yet. I bought it in a used bookstore just a few minutes ago while Hermione and Jean were taking forever getting her school robes." Jean lightly punched her husband at that remark.

I was believing less and less in coincidence, and a bead of sweat trickled down my face. "Could you point me towards the bookstore?" I asked.

After saying goodbye to the Grangers, I left Flourish and Blotts. Breaking into a stride, I signaled for one of the Silent Men to accompany me as I headed towards the location I was given.

Though it was hard to find, we eventually arrived. The Basilisk Book Market was etched on a wooden sign that appeared to be older than even me. Gemini, the bodyguard, drew his wand as I motioned for him to do so. He entered first, with me close behind him.

Then, everything happened quickly. A red flash and an ear-piercing bang later, Gemini was blasted backwards, crashing into me and sending us both into one of the bookshelves. I tumbled to the right, drawing the silver knife that I'd been given as a means of protection. I checked Gemini's pulse, finding that he was alive but unconscious.

It was too dark to make out the features of the attacker, but he made his presence known by cackling like a madman.

"Tom… Riddle… I have found you at last… _Son_."

The man clapped his hands together, turning on a dozen or so candles.

Even with the extra light and a closer inspection of his face, I couldn't make anything of it. His yellow eyes seemed to see nothing and everything at the same time. His greasy, unkempt hair fell down to his shoulders. In short, he looked like a madman. It didn't help that he kept giggling like one as well.

"Riddle, my boy. My beautiful son. Come. To. PAPA!" He cried, spreading his arms.

I brandished my silver knife, trying to look as intimidating as possible. It was a safe bet to assume I failed, as he advanced a few more steps towards me.

"What's the matter, SON? Can't even recognize your own FATHER?" The man cackled.

What I then saw was one of the most horrifying things I had ever lay eyes upon.

The man began to peel off his face. His skin stretched half a meter before being pulled off entirely. Blood trickled down his neck and chest, a sinister crimson that slowly changed into a sickly looking gold before hitting the ground.

When it was over, the man threw aside his face, covering his head with his hands.

"And now… CAN YOU RECOGNIZE ME NOW?!" He shouted, dropping his arms and grinning.

What had been a bloodied mess a second ago, was now a normal looking man. His features were handsome, with charcoal black hair that was neatly combed, and skin that was as white and fair as a vampire. But what was truly terrifying were his eyes. They shone like rubies, a fire burning in them that seemed to pierce into my very soul.

I recognized him. This man looked just like me, if I was older. He had taken the look of Lord Voldemort himself.

A Boggart. There was no other explanation.

But I do not fear my father. Lord Voldemort does not frighten me.

I looked behind me. Gemini was still out cold. It wasn't possible for him to change the form of the Boggart.

But I wasn't given that long of a break, the thing, whatever it was- leaped towards me. I slashed vertically, which seemed to work at first. Fake-Voldemort scrambled backwards away from my blade.

That is, before the thing shattered in my hands- covered in a thin layer of frost. It was goblin-made enchanted silver. More than my year's allowance could buy.

At this point, my level of fear reached a new height. While I was not scared by Voldemort- this thing that was impersonating it was incredibly dangerous.

Seeing no other choice, I stumbled backwards towards the unconscious form of Gemini. I then slowly removed his wand from the holster and pointed it towards the monster. It had changed slightly, appearing to now have horns. What kind of monster has horns? Well, a lot I suppose. But I wasn't thinking too straight at the time.

This might be a good time to mention that I barely knew any magic, and the only weapon I had was a wand.

"Expeliormus!" I shouted. I recalled reading it from a spellbook once. Oh, I sparked it, but nothing else came for me.

"Reducto!" This time, I got more of a result- as I managed to singe the monster. Of course, this wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Enraged, Voldemort rushed towards me. Instincts told me to sidestep as the thing passed clear, completely avoiding me and running into a steel suit of armor. But when his back was turned, I noticed something odd.

There was a sliver of silver that was attached to the back of the monster, covering the length of the floor before it reached the table where the monster had been standing. On the table, with the other end of the string attached, was a book. A tattered diary that looked to be at least half a century old.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope nobody minds me naming Hermione's parents as Richard and Jean. Seemed natural for me, I suppose.**

 **Qoheleth: I may have been unclear as in what Tom believes in. However, for clarity's sake, Tom is against pure-blood propaganda and 'hereditary magical talent'. He is also in absolute denial that he is what his creator made him. I hope this clears it up.**

 **-Arcindium**

 **I really like your prologue. It demonstrated an incredible grasp of wordplay and worked really well. The first chapter met my expectations based on the prologue.**

 **The second chapter completely ignores those expectations, and not in a good way. You made an implicit promise in your prologue that this was a story about a particular version of Tom Riddle attending Hogwarts with Harry Potter. You then throw in Loki, something completely outside of Harry Potter canon, and someone who doesn't fit at all with the initial theme you established.**

 **Your story is well-edited and generally clear and concise, but beyond the prologue it doesn't feel compelling. There is no lesser conflict to drive the story in the first chapter, and in the second chapter the conflict is so over-the-top I get whiplash. And, fundamentally, a conflict over a bag of coins doesn't really spark interest.**

 **I'd recommend trying to adjust the very beginning of the story to accurately convey the nature of the AU and the themes you will be exploring in the rest of it, so that reader know what they're getting into. That's the biggest fix I think you need to make.**

 **Arcindium: I... don't know what to say. I'm touched. Honestly moved. I've never had this much constructive criticism in my entire 5 years of trying to write fanfiction. I'll be sure to adjust.**

 **As for the Loki part though... I wanted a maniac villain who could provide some interesting subplot who was cunning and... not unknown to the general pool of readers. I tried adjusting his role, and I hope it is satisfactory.**


End file.
